


TLC

by flootiger



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 20:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10772280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootiger/pseuds/flootiger
Summary: Tom is sick and in need of some TLC. Luckily Tom has Bill.





	TLC

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> My full works can be found here: http://fiction.tokiohotelfiction.com/viewuser.php?action=storiesby&uid=18857

The gentle rock of the tourbus was soothing, a low, steady thrum that rumbled along the road towards the sea and onto their next destination. They’d left London an hour ago after a long day. It felt so good to be back on the road and to be back with the fans but Tom needed to recover. His head felt heavy and his limbs were useless, barely able to take off his tour outfit and shove on his hoodie before he’d collapsed on the bed and closed his eyes in exhaustion. Around him, bars of orange light filtered through the curtains of his bed space, intermittently colouring the room with a soft glow and almost sending Tom to sleep.  
  
Almost.   
  
On the level below he could hear the others laughing, no doubt reliving the concert with a couple of beers. Tom wanted to be enjoying the aftermath with his bandmates but the thought of uprooting made him sink further back into the mattress. More than anything he wanted Bill to come up.   
  
Tom was missing the heavy press of his twin’s body, the warm, heady scent of his brother who would so often sleep wrapped up with Tom. He could text him, but he didn’t want to kill Bill’s post-show high.   
  
Bill lived for touring, he came alive during the months they spent on the road and Tom wasn’t keen to dilute any of Bill’s excitement.  
  
Tom sighed mournfully, feeling sorry for himself.   
  
He’d been sick for a couple of weeks now, probably too tired. Rest is what he needed, rest and relaxation away from his bandmates so as not to contaminate them. He didn’t like the thought, but he supposed he could go a few more nights alone and then Bill would come back to him. Besides, Tom couldn’t imagine anything worse than getting Bill sick during one of their tours. That would break his heart.   
  
Instead, Tom tried to sleep, lulled by the steady motion of the tourbus. His body ached and his lids were heavy and it wouldn’t be long…   
  
Downstairs, Bill laughed and the corner of Tom’s lips curled into a sleepy smile.   
  
Thoughts of Bill drifted into his mind, of his twin’s plump lips trailing over his torso, of his long legs wrapped around Tom’s waist, of hot breath in his ear and delicate fingers pushing into his hair and snapping it loose from the elastic.   
  
Tom groaned, half with desire and half with exhaustion, but finally he was on the verge of slumbers. Tomorrow he would wake and he would be better, he could feel it.   
  
A quiet click registered in the back of his mind but his eyes remained shut, thoughts still with his absent twin.   
  
Then the small double bed dipped and a warm weight curled up against Tom’s side as lips touched just below his jaw. Bill’s favourite place to fit himself; all mashed up in Tom’s personal space.   
  
Tom exhaled and lay still and quiet as Bill adjusted himself so he was half draped over Tom’s body, safe and familiar and careful.   
  
“Mmm,” Tom hummed, and turned to nose blindly into Bill’s cheek. “You’re not supposed to be here.”   
  
“I wasn’t supposed to be here ten years ago but I was never very good at staying away.”   
  
Tom let out a soft laugh, amused that Bill was being sweet to him. Bill wasn’t often sweet, that was Tom’s territory. Bill was a non-stop whirlwind who barely touched the ground unless Tom needed him to, and tonight he needed his twin. Bill was close, so close that Tom could hear the huff of his breath and feel the brush of his eyelashes as be blinked dozily against his neck. They were both wrapped up in cosy hoodies but Tom could still feel the heat from Bill’s body, the only warmth he would ever need.   
  
“Don’t get sick,” Tom murmured. “I’d feel bad.”   
  
Tom felt Bill smile into his neck. “Not as bad as the fans would feel if I couldn’t sing.”   
  
“Don’t,” Tom said. “I feel bad enough as it is.” He gave a pathetic little demonstrative cough.  
  
Bill chuckled. “Sorry.”   
  
“No you’re not.” Tom squeezed an arm around Bill’s waist, pulling him as close as he could in the confines of the bed. Around them the bus was silent, an almost eerie quell that only crept in during post-show crashes. Georg and Gustav had clearly departed for bed when Bill had.   
  
“I am, I hate seeing you sick,” Bill promised.   
  
Tom didn’t open his eyes, instead lying still as Bill shifted over him, breathing hot, teasing puffs of warm air over his jaw, chin, nose, cheeks, lips.   
  
It was only when he felt the gentlest of contact as Bill’s lips ghosted over his own that he opened his eyes a fraction and tilted his chin out of Bill’s reach.   
  
“Don’t, Bill, seriously.”   
  
“I’ll be fine. If you were contagious I would have caught it by now.” Bill hushed him and placed two very careful kisses to the corners of Tom’s mouth, lingering just long enough to send a jolt down to Tom’s belly.   
  
Kissing Bill was fiery and soothing at the same time. Tom had learnt long ago that most of life’s upsets could be healed with a kiss from his twin. When they were eight and he’d fallen off his skateboard and grazed his knee he’d wailed until Bill pressed a tender kiss over the red raw skin. When they were fifteen and dropped from their first record label they’d made a fort of pillows and held each other in shaking arms as nervous lips had sought each other in the torchlight and suddenly Tom’s fears of the future had melted away. When they were sixteen Tom’s girlfriend had dumped him and Bill was there to kiss away the angry tears and promise him things no girl ever could. When they were twenty-one and moving to a foreign country Bill had spread himself beneath Tom and kissed him over and over until he felt like he’d come home.   
  
And now, as Bill bestowed sweet kisses that told Tom he would take care of him until he was better, Tom’s body seemed to relax for the first time that day and he let himself be enveloped by the downy pillows surrounding him and Bill’s embrace.   
  
Tom’s eyes slipped shut again and Bill pulled back.   
  
“Don’t go,” Tom mumbled, dozy from exhaustion.   
  
“‘M not,” Bill assured him and then Tom felt Bill press an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. Slow, lazy, hot, Tom opened his mouth to let Bill in, pleased to be able to have his twin to himself on the bus. His belly flipped as he felt Bill’s tongue slide against his own and he let out a pleased groan.   
  
With the others in a separate room, the twins had built themselves a nest-like home for the duration of the tour, a space just for the two of them to relax, recuperate and love each other properly. No more tip-toeing into each other’s bunks at night and sneaking back before sunrise.   
  
More than ever Tom was grateful for this, wanting nothing more than for Bill to nurse him back to health with reassuring touches and loving kisses.   
  
Bill was doing just that and Tom felt a surge of gratitude towards his little brother. He smiled to himself as Bill licked at Tom’s lower lip and slowly trailed kisses back down to his little hideaway in the crook of Tom’s neck. Absently, Tom traced his fingers over Bill’s back, humming in contentment as Bill crooned, nuzzling into Tom and twisting his hands into Tom’s over-sized hoodie.   
  
Soft fingers sought their way beneath the fabric of Tom’s top, petting over his belly and dipping fingertips just under the elastic waistband of his trackpants. Tom let out a soft grunt and squeezed Bill closer to him. Not tonight. He knew Bill already knew this, that his twin was simply letting him know he was there.   
  
Small, intimate touches were often Bill’s way of telling Tom he was there. They had long ago established unwritten rules that kept them in check. Public touches were allowed, they were close and everyone knew this, but they were always fleeting, nothing lingering, nothing obvious. The touches they shared as lovers were only behind locked doors, their secret, their promise to be each other’s forever.    
  
Tom smiled softly in the dark, turning to coax Bill into another kiss. Bill obliged and wound their ankles together as he stroked Tom’s belly, storing him safely in his arms. Everything seemed muffled, distant, except his baby. The two of them safely ensconced away from the world.   
  
Tom knew that they would always be like this. Perhaps this was why they'd been allowed to go out into the world while they were still so young, because they would always have each other. 


End file.
